Joel's Birthday
by Luciferine
Summary: Eighth installment of the Straight on 'Til Morning Series. On an anniversary he'd rather forget, Joel closes himself off from everything and everyone to grieve. Fortunately for him, Ellie isn't so easily deterred. Set around the same time as Counting Stars. Cross-posted from Tumblr.


**AN: Dedicated to lolzforshits on Tumblr and everyone else who supported this idea and guilted me into it by proxy. I know I'm a little late on the birthday bandwagon, but hey. Better late than never. I tried for happy, but... well. Nothing is happy with these idiots involved. Not even birthdays. Set, as always, in SOTM 'verse. And of course, dedicated to Joel, for being one of very few fictional characters to hold my interest and inspiration for this long, as well as being fucking awesome and generally badass. Happy birthday. **

It starts out slowly enough that she doesn't really notice. Sometimes, Joel gets a bit too quiet, or wanders off to be on his own for just a bit too long. She doesn't like it when it happens, but... it happens. It's been like that since they met. It's nothing new. He always come back to her, and that's what's important, right?

* * *

And if one day he gets up a bit earlier than her and leaves without saying good-bye, well. It's hardly anything to worry about. But then she doesn't see him. At all. All day. He comes home ridiculously late, but she doesn't ask him where he's been. There's something about the way he's carrying himself -almost like he's in pain- that makes her bite her tongue. So she just yawns out a hello, and tries not to let her relief show too much when he greets her back, sounding normal enough. He looks at her for a long moment, like he's trying to find something, and it's hard to sit still under that kind of scrutiny. But she does. Whatever he finds seems to help, because he smiles a bit at her and his movements are a bit less weighed down as he gets ready for bed. It's all fine, she tells herself. He just needed a bit of space.

But he's gone again when she wakes up the next morning, and the day repeats. She waits up for hours that night, but when she finally drifts off, Joel is still not next morning, the only hint that he came back at all is the mess of tangled blankets on his cot. Joel only moves around like that when he's having nightmares. Bad ones. And he almost always wakes her up with them...

That's when Ellie starts to worry.

* * *

She tries going about it subtly at first. She'll try to catch him in the mornings, waking as early as her body can handle. When that fails, she fairly runs laps around the entire town in search of him. A few times, she thinks she's almost got him, but she always seems just a second too late. It quickly becomes apparent to her that he's _hiding. _Which is fucking bizarre; Joel doesn't hide. He aggressively ignores problems until they go away, but he doesn't hide. But, for some inconceivable reason, he is.

What the hell is she supposed to do with that?

* * *

She knows Joel well enough to recognize that, if he doesn't want to be found, she won't be able to find him. That doesn't stop her from trying. And try she does. Incessantly. For _days_. Finally, out of sheer desperation, about two mornings after the first incident, she relents and admits she needs help. There's only one person in the area who might know what the hell's going on, so she corners him by the stables.

"What the hell is wrong with your brother?" she growls, frustrated enough that she's not entirely sure she won't hit him if he doesn't answer fast enough. Tommy gives her a long, measured look before heaving a sigh and sitting down on a bale of hay. Ellie looks at him then, really looks at him, and notes the bags under his eyes, the almost sad look in them that's she's not used to seeing. Out of the two brothers, Ellie's always thought Tommy seems a little less weighed down by everything than Joel. Now, though,he looks about as shitty as she feels. "Tommy?" she asks, voice quieter. "Is... is everything okay?"

"I told him you'd notice somethin' was up," the older man mutters. "The two of you are attached at the goddamn hip, how could you not?" Her eyes widen, panic seizing her for a terrible moment.

"He's sick," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "He's sick or he's dying or he's _something_." Her heart constricts painfully. _Luck had to run out someday..._ she thinks numbly. _I thought we had more time..._ Tommy tilts his head, eyes narrowed at her in confusion. Understanding and something like horror breaks over his face.

"What? Oh. No. Ellie, no. God, no. He's fine. Healthy as a horse. Stop... shit. You're gonna cry, ain't ya? Fuck. Please don't cry. Joel'll slit my throat if he finds out I made you cry. Goddamn him, why can't he explain things _himself_ for a change, 'stead of makin' me do it?"

"I'm not going to cry," she assures him, fresh relief washing over her at Tommy's words. They're okay. _For now..._ Tommy's relief appears to mirror her own; in any other situation, she'd probably laugh at the look on his face. "If he's not..." She finds herself unable to say the word. "If he's fine, then what the fuck if going on with him?" Her earlier irritation has returned, stronger know with the added fact of that bastard making her worry for no good reason.

Tommy grimaces. "It's... complicated," he begins. "It's a bad time for 'im. Hell, it's a bad time for all of us." He barks out a harsh laugh that Ellie's not used to hearing from him. He looks at her questioningly. "I'm surprised you don't remember... Then again, you weren't born yet..." Another laugh. "Fuck, I'm old. Joel too... I wonder-" He's cut off by someone calling his name. Ellie briefly wonders if the universe just wants to watch her suffer. She gives Tommy an expectant look and he winces apologetically. "Shit. Alright, lemme give you some advice before I go. Joel ain't exactly himself right now. Just give 'im some time. He'll wander back 'round to you." A thoughtful expression crosses his face. "If no one else, he'll snap out of it for you."

"Thanks," Ellie mutters sarcastically as she watches him go. "Very helpful." She huffs a sigh, realizing she hasn't made any progress at all. All she knows is that Joel's avoiding everything. That he's avoiding _her_. "Whatever," she mutters. "If he wants to go and be miserable then he fucking can. See if I care."

* * *

The nightmare itself wasn't terrible. She doesn't even remember it when she wakes up. Under normal circumstances, she'd probably listen to Joel snoring and drift back to sleep. Worse case scenario, she'd go over to his cot and shove him until he made room for her. But he's not here. There's nothing but terrifying, empty silence. The lingering terror from the dream settles over her like sludge, and she decides she needs to find Joel and drag him back from whatever pit he's passed out in, because she needs some fucking sleep.

* * *

Maria ends up finding her about fifteen minutes later, curled up on her and Tommy's front porch.

"Can I come in?" Ellie asks wearily. The older woman doesn't look at her with pity, which Ellie appreciates. She invites her in, and doesn't say a word when Ellie collapses face-first onto the couch. She's vaguely aware of a blanket settling over her back, and of hushed voices somewhere in the background. She doesn't pay them any attention, choosing instead to wallow in a bit of self-pity. She's exhausted and frustrated and she swears to God, if Joel shows his stupid face anywhere near her before she gets some shut-eye, she's going to punch him. Hard. Then again, she sort of needs him to sleep... maybe she can punch him and then sleep? Her train of thoughts rambles on incoherently, almost lulling her in unconsciousness.

Naturally, that's when someone knocks on the door. Violently. Ellie groans briefly into the pillow. She'll bet every last Savage Starlight she owns that it's him. She hears heavy footsteps -Tommy, Maria doesn't walk like that- and the sound of a door creaking open.

"Fuckin' finally," she thinks she hears someone growl. She can't tell if it's Joel or Tommy. "I... Shit, Tommy. I can't find Ellie. Is she...?" Joel, then. He sounds worried. Fucking _good_.

"Yeah. She's passed out on the couch. Maria found her on the porch," Tommy explains. She hears an exhale of relief.

"Good. Wait. The...? Nevermind. I don't wanna know. Lemme in, I'm takin' her home." For some reason, that's what does it. The fact that he thinks he can just march in and start calling the shots again, like he hasn't been missing in action for nearly a week. Fuck that. Fuck _him_. She pushes herself off the couch, anger clearing her drowsiness, and heads for the door.

"That might not be the best..." Tommy begins, trailing off as Joel shoves past him. "Okay. Sure. C'mon in. Not that you've ever needed an invitation..." he mutters to no one in particular. Joel very nearly walks into her, but she doesn't let herself look at him. She dodges the hand that comes up to grab her, and bolts.

"Fuck. _Ellie!" _Joel calls after her. "Ellie, get back here!"

She's still close enough to hear Tommy snort. "Told ya," he says. Ellie feels rather than sees the glare Joel sends his little brother.

"Shuttit," he growls. She hears the familiar sound of Joel's feet hitting the ground, and speeds up.

"You know you're not the only one who lost people, brother," she hears Tommy call out. "We all lost. Doesn't give you the right to be a jackass."

* * *

She slams the door behind her, hard enough that she feels the vibrations all the way up to her shoulder. Joel's probably less than a minute away. She lost him for a while, looping around some of the houses, but she's pretty sure he let her. She doesn't care. Her hands are itching and she really wants to hit something. She briefly considers the wall, but then decides Joel isn't worth the broken hand. Instead, she collapses onto her bed, bringing her knees up and curling around herself.

She hears the door open, hears Joel's footsteps. She knows perfectly well that he's standing right beside her. She doesn't look up.

"Ellie, I..." he starts. When she doesn't react,he heaves a sigh. She hears the cot creak under his weight.

"Just got home, huh? That's the only reason you noticed I was gone," she mutters bitterly. He's silent, and she knows she's right. "Fuck off, Joel. Just... fuck off."

"You were here when I checked on you a few hours ago," he tells her, voice rough. "And then you were gone and I thought... I've been real fuckin' stupid. I get that. I'm sorry. Just... don't run off like that." She raises her head and gives him a disbelieving look. He's seriously going to say that to _her_? He grimaces. "Kinda hypocritical. I know. Listen, I..." He scrubs a hand over his face, and she takes the opportunity to really look at him. Despite herself, she feels bad for him. Wants to comfort him.

"You look like shit," she informs him instead. He snorts out a laugh.

"Can't say I feel much better," he admits. She was being honest; the lines in his face seem way deeper than they were a few days ago. His hair's more of a mess than usual, and his clothes are a mess. He has dark circles under his eyes, worse than Tommy's. She realizes that they're bloodshot, too. It's around then that she becomes aware of the slight whiff of booze in the air. A whole different breed of fury sparks inside of her.

"You're drunk," she states, leaving no room for denial. Disappointment wells up in her, and she has to look away.

"Not nearly enough for this conversation," he mutters. His words are barely slurred, only some of the vowels running together. It's slight, but noticeable. Her eyes snap back to his, and whatever he sees there makes him look down again.

"So let me get this straight. You up and leave me for a fucking week, avoid me like I'm a fucking Infected, to... what? Wallow in booze and self-pity? What the fuck?! Whatever's going on with you, it better be good because I swear to God, Joel..." She trails off, grinding her teeth. "I thought you trusted me," she says quietly, and shit that was not supposed to come out like that. "I thought we were friends." Where the hell is this coming from? She needs to shut up...

Joel's head jerks up sharply, face shocked. "I do. You know I do. More than anyone. And we are. I just... it's not anything to do with you, alright? It's not you. It's-" He cuts himself off abruptly, and blinks. Then he starts to laugh. Ellie stares at him, partly infuriated that he finds this funny and partly concerned for his mental state. He goes on like that for a few minutes, with Ellie staring at him, dumbfounded the entire time. "Oh, _god," _he mutters once he's calmed down, wiping tears from his eyes. "Ellie, do me a favor? Punch me if I ever say that last part to you again."

"I can do that," she replies cautiously, under the distinct impression that she's missed something, and wondering if he's going to break out into another fit."Feel like saying it again right now?"

"I deserve that," he acknowledges, expression turning sober. She tilts her head to the side in agreement. "I do trust you, though. More than any other person. Hell, more than myself. You're..." He trails off, shifting uncomfortably. "You know what you mean to me." She's surprised she was able to get that much out of him. She supposes she could be mean, could push him to elaborate, but she doesn't.

"Yeah, I know," she says gently, anger fading a bit in the face of his honesty. "Can you just tell me why?"

"Why?" he echoes, face twisted in confusion.

"Why the hiding? Why the drinking? Just... why?" He looks away from her then, eyes glazing over slightly like they always do when he's remembering.

"It's been a year," he says unexpectedly. She frowns, confused. "A year since we met," he clarifies. "A whole fuckin' year later, and I'm still no closer to figurin' you out then I was when Marlene first shoved you in my face." He shakes his head, a mystified look on his face.

"Only a year?" she asks, which is a really stupid reaction, but it's the first thing that came to mind. Joel nods.

"Feels like longer, huh? Feels like forever," he mutters, and she's not entirely sure he's talking to her anymore. He reaches over, hand brushing her cheek as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and she forgets she's supposed to be angry. They stay frozen like that for a moment, both lost in thought.

"I thought you said it had nothing to do with me," she says, and instantly regrets it. Whatever moment they just had is broken, and Joel pulls his hand back, clearing his throat.

"It doesn't," he agrees. "Just so happens that it shares a date with..." It's clear that he's having a hard time getting the words out. So she thinks. _'It's a bad time for 'im'... 'you're not the only one who lost people'... 'I'm surprised you don't remember'..._ The moment of realization hits her like a ton of bricks.

"Oh," she says quietly. "Oh, _god." _She remembers when they first got here, when Joel was needling her about her birthday, and she was able to get his own date out of him. _26th of September... day of the Outbreak..._ "Joel, I'm-"

"Don't." He shakes his head. "It's long passed."

"But I... s_hit_. I was such an ass... Of course you're upset, you have every right to be upset..." She feels terrible. She looks helplessly at Joel, hoping he understands that she didn't know, that she's sorry. "That's the night that-" She clamps her mouth shut, just in time. She expects Joel to get angry. _You're walking on some mighty thin ice here..._

"The night that Sarah died, yeah." His voice is a little hoarser, and his eyes looked pained, but he's not angry. Just sad. "I reckon a lot of people's daughters died that night. Tommy was right about that much. I sure as hell ain't special and I don't get a free pass to make everyone else miserable. Especially not you." He looks at her, vulnerable in a way she's not used to seeing. "More than anyone else, I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

She's not at all sure what she's supposed to say to that. Her emotions are flipping from guilty to angry to relieved and she feels a bit dizzy. She gets up and goes to sit beside him. "I didn't mean any of it," she tells him quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I was just worried. Just... don't pull shit like that again, okay? If you're miserable, then we can be miserable together. None of this hiding bullshit."

"I wasn't _hiding_," he mutters.

"You were actively avoiding. That counts as hiding," she counters. He turns his head to look at her, eyes gentle. There's a long moment of his regarding her, before he inclines his head in a nod.

"No hiding," he promises. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments.

"So... any birthday requests?" she asks. She feels the vibration of his laughter before she hears it. "I'm serious," she tells him. "What do you want?" He looks at her is disbelief.

"Nothin'," he tells her. "Just... just this." He nudges her with his elbow. "Just y... your company." She rolls her eyes.

"You don't need to ask for that, though. You already _have_ my company," she protests. He shrugs.

"Then I want to keep havin' it," he says quietly. She looks at him briefly, before shaking her head.

"Fine. I can do that. Happy birthday. You've got it for as long as you want it." She offers him a small smile, and it widens when he returns it. There's a moment where his smile falters, though, and something like regret flashes across his face. Maybe not regret... but she doesn't recognize it enough to give it a name. His hand is back in her hair, curling a strand of it around his finger. He seems lost in thought, in a way that worries her.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he says simply.


End file.
